More Heart, Less Attack
Evie was walking to her car replaying the interaction she had ten minutes previously. So ends another one she thought with a laugh, although it wasn't really funny, Brett was a good guy, but he didn't get it. None of them did. She had come back here after her Aunt died because she felt it was important, but that was almost a year ago. The shop had closed a couple months after Althea's passing taking most of her family legacy with her. The few people who realized she was practicing kept it to themselves and she was fine with that. She wasn't cut out for the role her predecessors had played in the community, more and more she felt that old restlessness, the need for more. She thought if anyone would understand that it was Brett. He was funny and smart and kind. They met and had instantly started dating, he owned an art gallery near Tulane and for awhile she had tricked herself into believing that it was enough. When she confided in him that she had been exploring things outside New Orleans he was not supportive. He flipped saying he thought they were building towards something, which she guessed they had been. She had to shake her head again. Honestly was she really even that upset? Part of her had known that telling the guy you're dating that you're discontent and looking beyond your current life isn't the best idea. This was textbook Genevieve. She didn't mean to do it, she was just bad at this whole relationship thing.
She took a shortcut to her car, one benefit of growing up in this city was she knew where the good parking could be found on the edge of the Quarter. Cutting down the next ally she felt a queasiness, maybe she was more upset about Brett than she though or maybe that bourbon on an empty stomach wasn't a great call. They hadn't really made it to dinner. Either way tonight called for some serious comfort food and something bad on tv.
Evie approached her car and instantly her focus shifted. She was rusty, but suddenly she knew she he misread the feeling from moments before. She began to run but knew she didn't have enough of a head start and instead switched tactics, stopping at her car. She has seconds to prepare shifting her weight and throwing one hand into the side pouch of her bag,then something hit her from the side. It wasn't a full tackle, something meant more to restrain than to hurt and they weren't expecting her to be so prepared. She pivoted dropping her purse but grasping the small knife she had managed to hold on to. Her assailant was big, and made another grab as she scrambled away and thought of her options. She summoned energy and pushed it out from herself; this caused the guy to stumble back as he was making another move towards her. She wasn't sure how much more energy she could extend and felt sure she couldn't outrun him. Surmising it was her only option, she leapt toward the form they had just fallen to the ground. Pushing out again to keep him there as thrust the knife towards his throat.
"Stop" she heard a deep voice rumble. With the adrenaline and energy running through her system it took another yelled
"Stop" to realize the voice wasn't coming from the man she now had pinned but rather one that was running up from behind her. The guy on the ground had his hands up and and seemed more confused than concerned that she was on top of him with a knife. She whipped her head head around to see a man approaching.
In one instant she was a million different emotions, heart still racing from the fight, she was now looking directly in the eyes of the man she never thought she would see again.
"Dean" was all she could manage, instead of calming down she was pretty sure her heart rate had reached a new record.
"Dean" she said again entirely forgetting she was holding a knife on top of a giant who had jumped her.
It couldn't be him, how could it be him? She couldn't collect her thoughts at all. The man she had pinned down took her confusion as an opportunity and flipped them securing the wrist that held the knife to the hot pavement. She knew she could no longer fight him now that he had the full range of his body weight against her but she attempted to kick out and struggle on instinct.
"Sammy stop" She heard his gruff voice and couldn't imagine why she hadn't recognized it instantly. Her attacker, Sam she now realized looked up at his brother but didn't give an inch on her restraint.
"She has a knife" Sam said a little annoyance creeping into his voice, but if Dean heard him he didn't acknowledge it. He was staring at her now. She had a million questions and why she was being jumped by his brother wasn't even in the top 10 list.
"Dean" she said again, apparently it was the only word her brain could currently process so she stuck with it. Sam looked between the both of them confusion clear on his face and she felt his grip on her arms relax. She met Dean's eyes and he seemed to become more awake.
"Sammy get off of her" Dean said a little shortly and he pushed his brother aside to help her up.
She dodged his hand and stood on her own, holding onto her knife like the security blanket. She just looked at both of them, surely she wasn't the one who needed to start talking first in this situation and she still couldn't confirm that she could get more than one syllable out so she just stood and looked between them. Dean, who must have realized she was unwilling on incapable of starting any more discussion, cleared his throat awkwardly with a laugh.
He rose his eyes to meet hers once again and said
"Hello Genevieve"
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Dean hesitated. Of course he had imagined seeing her again. He would never admit just how frequently she crossed his mind over the past four years, no matter how much he had tried to push what they had to the background.
She was staring at him clearly waiting for something, an explanation he surmised as he remembered they had just jumped her. He silently cursed letting Sam run ahead. They had gotten a lead and someone swearing that their was a witch in the Quarter that was working the kind of mojo that they were looking for. Uncharacteristically Sam had been itching to get to her. Dean knew he was stressed, trying to stop seals from breaking was enough to put anyone on edge, but Sammy wasn't normally this reckless.
The second they got the lead Sam insisted that they split up. It had only been a few minuets ago that Sam had called Dean saying that he'd found her and was going to grab her so they could get some answers. Sprinting from 12 blocks away, he was completely thrown off when he saw his overly large brother on the wrong side of a knife. Panic had shot through him, so much panic that he hadn't paid much attention to the other person. Once Sam had turned the tables Dean focused on the girl, he thought she had said his name a moment before but didn't think too much about it. She certainly wouldn't have been the first thing to know his name. This last thought came to him a little smugly until he was jolted entirely back to reality. This wasn't just any girl.
The thought had crossed his mind when they had decided to go to New Orleans, or rather been ordered to do so by Castiel. How could he not remember all the time he spent here, all that time with her. But she had left, he had broken their promise and checked in a few times and from what he could see she had done what she always wanted. She had left this town, left the entire damn country behind for parts unknown. That's why this was so unexpected, the last place he expected to find her was right where he left her.
Throughout all this train of thought he realized she has said his name again. Focusing on his brother and Genevieve he realized Sam still saw her as a threat. He yelled for him to get off of her, protective instinct in full force and then brushed past his brother to help her up. She didn't even recognize his out stretched hand and popped up on her feet. Her eyes looked confused and wary. I guess he needed to say something so he went with the first thing that came to his mind.
"Hello Genevieve" Her eyes moved to meet his again as soon as he said her name but she still didn't say anything. Man what the hell do you say in a situation like this, Dean then realized normal people were never in situations like this.
"Um" he began rubbing the back of his neck "Sorry, sorry about the …" he gestured to Sammy.
"Dean?" Sam said questionly. Great now they were both staring at him.
"Oh, um" he was stalling for time, how did he give either of them answers.
"Sammy, this is Genevieve. She's a, she's an old friend" He glanced warily at Genevieve but she still looked to shaken to take offense at his word.
"Genevieve, this is Sam. My brother" He knew she had probably already gotten there but sticking to the basics seemed like the easiest thing.
Looking at Sam he could see him shifting uneasily back and forth and sneaking looks a Genevieve, he imagined that his brother was having a major guilt trip over having just attacked a girl. Come to think of it Dean couldn't believe he had gone after her like that, I mean he had been jittery and a little more rammy than usual lately, but this was still out of character.
Refocusing on Evie for a second he said the only thing he could think of.
"Bourbon" It was suggestion and a destination all in one. Exhaling slowly she nodded and gestured for them to get in the car. She drove them to the spot he had known she would in the heart of Treme.
Bellequot's looked exactly like Dean remembered. He was hoping that familiarity would put Evie at ease. No one said anything on the short drive, although the silence wasn't exactly comfortable. Evie parked on a narrow side street next to the bar and they followed her in. Dean finally allowed himself to look at her closely. She was still striking, her hair a little bit shorter than the last time he saw her and she looked leaner. She had always been thin and fit, but their was a hardness to her arms now, maybe it was just in her movements. Their was a confidence there he wasn't sure he remembered.
They entered the nearly empty bar. Only two or three stools of the wraparound bar were occupied. He immediately moved to the corner seats, memory taking control. Sam was glancing all around, taking in the details of the barroom.
They settled in and for the first time Dean saw Genevieve's shoulders relax as she swung behind the bar to grab glasses and a bottle from the top shelf. He knew he had to be the one to start. Clearing his throat he began.
"So like I said, we're real sorry about that mix-up" He looked up and she was rubbing her arm. Concern instantly shot through him.
"Shit are you hurt?" His eyes shot accusingly to Sam and back to her
"Did he hurt you" She looked up flipping her hair.
"I'm fine" she said her face hard, she continued "Besides before you distracted me I had him bested"
"Girl's got a point Dean" Sam added in and because Dean knew he couldn't help himself added.
"Now are either of you two going to explain how you know each other" Genevieve turned back for more whiskey seemingly ignoring the question and Sam leaned in closer "Or why until 15 minutes ago she was our number one suspect and now it's no question's asked"
"I'll explain" Dean muttered as he watched Genevieve drift a little ways down the bar grabbing a couple of things for their next round.
This was not something Dean could easily explain. How did he tell his brother that he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Genevieve wasn't the person they were looking for. He had never really regretted not telling Sam about her, that was another life and he thought it was better than it stayed buried. But now he needed a reason, if the tables were turned he would need more than a we know each other to satisfy him. Looking towards the grainy weather worn bar he saw the girl in question mixing a round of drinks.
"You know I'm not much for fancy drinks" Dean said across the bar, did she honestly think in a few years he started preferring martinis to shots.
"It's just an Old Fashion, you'll survive" she shot back over her shoulder. He felt a little better seeing the hint of of a smile as she said this. She was still Evie and that reinforced his belief that she had nothing to do with what was going on in this city.
"We will see about that" He didn't mean to flirt, but being this close to her he couldn't help but smile as she handed both he and Sam a drink. He raised his and the other followed in turn.
"To… " hope? Us? He wasn't quite sure what they should toast to
"Old friends" Sam supplied and looking at his smile Dean knew that his brother suspected something more.
They all took hearty swigs of the drink. Instantly Dean shuddered a little. He could taste the Bourbon strong and clear but their was another taste like metal. He quickly recovered, but Sam coughed a little as he also tasted the drink. This didn't track, Genevieve had been making drinks since she was a teenager. Dean saw her lean against the bar relief plain on her face. She exhaled shakily and then smiled a little and he hear something drop against the wood behind the bar. He looked at her confused.
"What's up, lose your bartending mojo?" He tried to say as nicely as possible. She had an almost smug look about her
"No exactly" she said pulling two small bottles up
"Holy water doesn't taste like much but nothing hides the taste of the silver essence" her smile widened a fraction as she showed them exactly what they were drinking.
"Son of a bitch" he hadn't meant to say it out loud. She had always been smart but this was something entirely different. He leaned forward to confirm another suspicion, he saw the 22 sitting on the small shelf under the bar. Sam had followed his eyes and he saw his brothers eyebrows go up. He'd be lying if he didn't have a little pride and a little worry, his girl had gotten cautious. The thought came unbidden and Dean mentally chastised himself, not his girl. If she ever really was that was a long time ago, they didn't even know each other anymore. He needed to get out of his own head.
"So, now that you're settled that it is really me and Sammy here. Any idea why two different people gave up your description and workplace as the Witch who has been working some big bad magic in the Quarter?"
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The momentary respite that she felt after the two men in front of her had taken a drink slipped away. Her being identified as a witch at all was concerning, but Genevieve for the life of her couldn't understand how she would be associated with something nefarious. People here barely knew she practiced and she couldn't think of anyone who knew that she had gained any real power. The thought that someone thought she would do something harmful with any of it was completely ridiculous.
"Who" was the question she picked first, quickly followed by "When?" and for good measure "why are you asking around New Orleans witches in the first place?"
The other question burning in the back of her mind she didn't ask. If they needed information that badly why hadn't he come to her, a leading expert on the subject.
"I went to Althea's first" Dean started. Hearing her aunt's name stung a little, especially on his lips.
"She's gone" she tried to ensure her voice didn't shake when she spoke.
"It was last year, in the fall, I came back and tried with the shop, but it didn't work out" She could feel herself rambling some but for some reason she wanted them to know what had happened. Dean nodded and Sam looked concerned for her.
"Yeah, ah, after that we just started talking to the other locals" Dean continued.
"Nothing really turned up until yesterday, some guy named Antonio Borelli said someone had recently come to town with a lot of power"
"Antonio is slime" she quickly cut Dean's story off, it was true Antonio knew things but only because he was an informant for the local crime families and he certainly wasn't above twisting facts to the highest bidder.
"He's always hated my family" this was also a well accepted fact. Her dad had testified against his brother years ago. Genevieve suspected the only reason they hadn't retaliated in any real way was fear of Althea.
Dean nodded at this information and continued.
"We figured as much out of Tony" the way he said his name reassured her that they had his number.
"But funny thing is that we got the same story from a couple of other locals. Someone with some serious fire power, a girl. No one knew or would give us a name. But a psychic off Frenchman gave us that bar you were at. Said it was a favorite for those dealing in black magic and that we might find who we were looking for"
At this she was frustrated, it was a popular bar and it's not like she was the only woman in this city who patroned that bar.
"Ok, so far I'm still not seeing how exactly you got to attacking me on the street" this came out a little harsher than she intended and she saw both of them wince a little.
"I saw you" Sam spoke up quietly and she turned her body more fully towards him
"I saw you with landscaping" Dean was looking at Sam like he was crazy, but it only took a moment for her to understand.
"The flowers" she said matching his tone. At this Sam turned to Dean and began explaining
"She was walking out of the bar looking totally bummed, but then I saw her wave her hand over these dead bushes and flowers along the sidewalk and I don't man, they just grew and bloomed out of nowhere"
Damn, why had she been so careless. It was all true, in her moodiness about Brett she had needed a pick me-up. Without even realizing it she had connected to the nearest living thing and forced energy between them. Not much, but just enough to get the high she got when she true natural magic connecting her to the earth. It was pure, but knew she didn't always have the best control.
She exhaled slowing, buying time to think of what to say next.
"Ok, that was stupid" she paused and then began again
"I don't usually make a habit of, you know" She looked at Sam but he still had that same curious confused look on his face which Dean now shared.
"I don't usual practice, anything, at all. It was just a bad night and I wasn't thinking, but it certainly wasn't anything that could hurt anyone" They had to believe her, Dean at least had to know making a few flowers bloom wasn't going to do any damage. She briefly thought back to using her energy to get the upper hand with Sam, she prayed he hadn't figured that out.
Dean was looking at her closely, too closely. It was putting her off balance. Suddenly she felt a surge of anger and resentment wash over her. Why was she defending herself. He had come back here, his brother had basically assaulted her and yet she was the one defending herself.
She reached for the bottle of bourbon to replace the spoiled drinks and tried to keep her voice calm.
"Still, a couple of fucking flowers don't really explain why you're here" fixed Dean with the hardest look she could muster forcing him to keep eye contact. She wanted this to be as hard for him as it was for her.
Perhaps sensing the rising tension Sam spoke first.
"That's kind of a long story" Genevive couldn't beleive that line of bullshit was how he was starting. She decided he shouldn't get off any easier than his brother so she switched her intent gaze to him. Realizing he was going to need more Sam continued.
" We are trying to stop something bad from happening. We heard from a friend that something is happening in the city right now, something that could mean bad thing for everyone if we can't stop it" Man this kid was real light on the details, having things explained to her like a child was not something she generally abided. She opened her mouth to say exactly this but was cut off.
"It's a curse" Dean said clearly recognizing the need for some clarity "Someone is laying a curse or breaking a curse, the info is a little spotty, but it's dark. The kind of dark people don't walk away from"
She took in his words and took a moment to study his face again, the seriousness and the gravity in it. Just like that she was back in his world.
